


Appearances Can Be Deceiving

by Sondra



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-31
Updated: 2011-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-22 00:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sondra/pseuds/Sondra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if everything we saw in the last episode happened exactly the way we saw it, but had a radically different explanation?  A speculative re-examination of the tragedy on Gauda Prime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Appearances Can Be Deceiving

I

[Place: A cabin in the forest

Countdown to calamity: C-minus 5 hrs] 

 

It isn't turning out the way I planned it. Now there's an understatement if I ever heard one. The truth is, just about everything that could go wrong has gone wrong—with the sole, and hopefully still salvageable, exception that we are, in fact, on the surface of Gauda Prime.

Well, most of us are. Vila and Dayna and Soolin are sleeping over there in the corner as if they haven't a care in the world, while I sit here keeping watch and trying to figure some way out of this monumental mess.  When I told them earlier aboard _Scorpio_ (when we still  had _Scorpio_ and still had Tarrant) that I've known Blake's whereabouts since before the fiasco with Zukan, I wasn't lying. One might even say that was the only truthful statement I made to them on the subject—suitably framed, to be sure, in a manner calculated to create the worst possible impression.

But I had no choice. If things go well, they'll understand that soon enough.  Understand that it was part of the scheme for me to pretend cool disdain towards the man they think we came here to "find." I can still see Tarrant's face when I said it: "Yes, I would have left Blake where he was and said nothing if things had gone according to plan." I had to make sure mine didn't give me away when he responded with that smug little threat of his to "try to work that into the conversation when we meet him."

Oh, and you would have met him, Tarrant. You were to have been the unwitting catalyst who would make the whole disaster look believable. Why else do you suppose I jeopardized my own safety by remaining on that crippled ship till the last possible minute? Even when I realized and accepted that we wouldn't have _Scorpio_ for our getaway, I was desperate to get you off with me...

Well, now there's no Tarrant and no _Scorpio_. Not to mention no alliance headed by Zukan. Was it after that awful business with Vila on the shuttle that my determination to find Blake started building? I can't quite remember, and it's hardly important now. The important thing is that Blake found  me.

I was suspicious at first when the message came through Orac. Hell, who wouldn't be suspicious if the last message they'd had from "Blake" had been from Servalan? Still I had to find out, and it's never been difficult to fool this lot when I've needed to do. They bought the flimsy excuse I gave them for leaving Xenon again so soon and for teleporting down by myself to that remote little planetoid...

Well, Blake was there, wasn't he? Gained a bit of weight since our last meeting and lost more than a bit of his good looks, but it was him, all right—hadn't lost any of his fiery zeal for that all-consuming cause of his. We mapped out the whole elaborate scheme together. Then he returned to his rebel base here to continue his bounty hunter masquerade, and I arranged that summit meeting for the warlords of the outer planets.

It almost worked—persuading them to set aside their quarrels with one another and form an alliance against the Federation. It would have worked if Zukan hadn't cut a private deal with Servalan. If Zukan had been on the level, we would have been able to manufacture enough Pylene-50 antidote to challenge the Federation's Pacification and Control Programme on a major scale. And then that alliance headed by Zukan would have joined forces with Blake's group—while Blake and I and the rest of the _Scorpio_ crew slipped away surreptitiously to stir the seeds of incipient rebellion on several other promising planets.

The most delicious part of the whole plan was that Servalan would never come looking for us because we were going to borrow a page from "Commissioner Sleer's" own book: we were going to "die" and, by our deaths, cease to be the object of anyone's search.

Yes, it was all supposed to happen here on Gauda Prime in a manner so convincing that no one would ever question its authenticity.

If we'd landed as planned—not "crashed", not been "shot down" by some unforeseen idiot who bungled into the middle of things as idiots always seem to manage to do—if we'd landed as planned, Tarrant would be on his way by now to arrange the meeting with Blake. I'm sure Blake would have had no trouble whatsoever convincing him that the "bounty hunter" routine was for real, and Tarrant would have come away believing that Blake intended to collect the considerable bounty on all of our heads...

I wonder what the others will think when they see me turn livid with rage and murder Blake on the spot in cold blood. Not that they'll have much time to think because, at the sound of my gun, one of Blake's people (Klyn I believe he said her name was) will come rushing in and order us all to drop our weapons. Then she'll line us up against the wall and open fire.

Of course her weapon will be set on stun for the others, and the shot she fires at me will be a dud altogether—just as I won't have been firing live ammunition at Blake. But the rest of Blake's people won't realize that. They'll believe it's all genuine. They know Klyn has been closer to Blake than anyone else on the base except Deva and that Deva has a deep-seated aversion to bloodshed. But even Deva won't try to stop Klyn from executing Roj Blake's murderers. None of them will. And because they believe it all, the Federation will believe it, too. Inevitably, sooner or later, by design or by chance, through malice or through carelessness, the desired story will reach the desired authorities.

Meanwhile Klyn will have lured the others well away from the scene of the apparent carnage. She'll have convinced them that, in the wake of our penetration, the base is no longer safe, and so they'll disperse to prearranged fallback positions, leaving her to blow up the base and the bodies with it. Except that Blake and I will have teleported those other "bodies" back to the ship—where we'll face the unenviable task of trying to explain to them why it was in their own best interest not to be told of the plan in advance. I think I'll leave that bit to Blake. He's had so much more experience justifying noble lies...

Listen to yourself, Avon. You're talking as if it's still going to happen—when there's no Tarrant to make the shootout look plausible and no ship to retreat to after the fact. On the other hand—in this hand here, to be precise—I still hold one very special gun.

Hell, maybe we can still pull it off. Fortunately, neither Dayna nor Soolin has had any cause to examine my gun. They assume it's an ordinary bounty hunter's gun; they assume I took it off the body of one of those bounty hunters I shot earlier in this very room. They've no way of knowing that I've had it since my meeting with Blake, that Blake gave it to me, that I've kept it carefully concealed aboard _Scorpio_ all this time. And carefully concealed amidst the many layers of my clothing during those final minutes on the flight deck. Blake was right when he said it would be an easy matter for me to appear to have picked it up on GP. And just to look at it from the outside, even an expert can't detect the modification—the hidden device which, when activated, will suppress the gun's ordinary firing mechanism and render the resulting discharge harmless.

Must be careful not to activate the device prematurely, though. I wouldn't want to be left in this dangerous environment without a functioning weapon for one instant longer than absolutely necessary. I'm not Blake, after all. That damned fool actually meant to be unarmed when we staged our little holocaust. He didn't even flinch when I suggested that I might slip up somehow and fail to switch off the firing mechanism. I was joking, of course, but it's the sort of joke that should make a prudent man nervous. But prudence has never been Blake's strong suit.

Now Vila's mumbling in his sleep. The women are stirring as well. It will be daylight before long—time to leave this shelter and make our way to Blake's base. No, it's not prudence that's ever distinguished that man—it's trust...

And I gave him my word that I'd help him with this deception, and there's been no further contact between us since the failure with Zukan, so it's a safe bet he's still relying on me. The least I can do is show up as expected and tell him what happened. Then we can figure out together if there's still any point in—or possibility of—salvaging the plan.

 

II

[Place: Administrative Office, Blake's Base

Time: C-minus 10 minutes]

 

What the hell went wrong? Shooting down Avon's ship wasn't part of the plan—though given that it's happened, finding Tarrant alive in the rubble was an incredibly lucky break. I've no doubt the man believes every word of the story I fed him. He must have believed it, tearing out of here like that. I'd bet half the contents of _Liberator_ 's treasure room he's gone to warn the others.

And Deva and Arlen—they've no idea that I allowed Tarrant to overpower me just now. Hell, Arlen would have shot him if I hadn't stopped her. And Deva's carrying on as usual about my propensity for taking unnecessary risks...

I doubt that Avon has any idea that Tarrant survived the crash.  And he couldn't possibly know that I've managed to carry out my bit  as originally planned. He'll be confused at first, but then he'll realize what must have happened and adjust his behavior accordingly. Avon always could be counted on to think quickly and calmly, and the two of us have always managed to function as a coordinated team, even when circumstances have thrown us wildly unexpected curves.

God, how he's changed since our parting at Star One! Was it trying to live up to the faith I expressed in him that day that forced him to change? We didn't have much time together on that dreary little planetoid—barely enough for me to learn about what happened on Terminal. 

He didn't want to talk about it, but when I argued that I needed to be aware of any such capability Servalan possessed in order to be maximally on guard against it, he bowed to logic and recounted everything. Without any outward show of emotion, to be sure. (Some things about Avon will probably never change!) I, on the other hand, could scarcely contain my feelings when I realized he had risked everything for my sake, yet, in the end, been prepared to sacrifice both our lives to save the rest of the crew and keep the _Liberator_ out of Servalan's hands. I wonder what it will be like—fighting beside this "new" Avon...

Well, I'll find out soon enough, won't I? Avon's flyer is safely inside the silo, and its occupants are on their way to the tracking gallery. I'll give Tarrant a chance to reach there first and then—

Careful now. You mustn't make Deva or Arlen suspicious. Arlen's only here in the first place to keep Deva from getting suspicious, from thinking you've really gone round the twist. All right, lay the gun down casually while they're distracted—don't call attention to it... 

Klyn will have understood my orders to let Avon through as her signal to take her position. So, except for _Scorpio_ , all the elements are still more or less in place. And I'm sure in time we can find or steal another ship, and until then—well, corpses are easy enough to hide. People rarely bother to search for them...

Time to go then. Uh-oh, Arlen's coming with me. Can't very well tell her not to do, can I? She's supposed to be my guard. A potential complication, this—what if she fires at Avon?

No, I'll never let that happen. I'll keep between them. I'll take the shot myself, if need be, before I'll see Avon harmed.  I'll—

Come on, Blake, relax. It'll never come to that. Klyn is standing by, remember?  She'll move quickly enough to prevent any such mishap.

I just wish this affair were running a little more closely to script. It's nerve-wracking enough starring in the enactment of your own murder without all these untidy loose ends to worry about.

Steady now, Blake; get a grip on yourself. It's going to be all right. You know it's going to be all right because you know that Avon is out there waiting for you—and there's no one in this entire galaxy you have ever trusted more.

 

III

[Place: GP Base Tracking Gallery

Time: C-minus 5 minutes]

 

It'll all be over and done with before they even realize what hit them—but I can't say I don't have mixed feelings about seeing it end. Working as a deep-cover agent in the camp of the enemy has drawbacks I never anticipated. I don't mean the danger. That I was prepared for. What I wasn't prepared for was starting to like the people I was deceiving. Especially Blake. It's hard not to warm to a man who gives you his trust when you know you've done nothing to deserve it. I think the worst was the day I accompanied him to that clandestine rendezvous...

 

 _Avon mustn't know I'm here. I'll remain out of sight when he comes on board our ship. Blake wants to introduce us, but I persuade him that it would be better not to do.  Argue that I'm an unknown quantity to the man and might make him uneasy. Argue that security dictates delaying our meeting until after the "massacre." "If he's caught, I'm one less rebel he can identify," is how I put it. Blake smiles at that—answers something like, "I don't think you've cause to worry about that with Avon."_

 _"Nonsense," I say, "You've cause to worry about that with anyone." But he keeps smiling, so I don't push it. Switch gears and say, "Well, but you two must have so much catching  up to do. He'll want privacy, won't he, for discussing personal things?"_

 _That elicits a snort of spontaneous laughter. "When this is all over," he says, "you've got to let me introduce you to him properly." His tone is a mixture of mirth and deep affection. But I've won with that "when this is all over"..._

 _It's easy after that. Avon's tired when he arrives, so Blake shows him to a cabin where he can rest. Later they hold their strategy session there, and Blake has no idea that I'm listening from my own cabin. Or that I have a visual scan on them when he gives Avon the gun and demonstrates how he's modified it for the staged assassination..._

 _Avon doesn't take the gun with him when he and Blake leave the ship for a walk together under the stars. As I watch them wander off, there's just enough light to illuminate their faces. I think it's the earnestness and total mutual absorption I see there that starts to gnaw at me. Actually makes me hesitate. Oh, not for long. Just for a minute. I am a professionally trained Federation officer, after all. I've had years of practice at shaking off inconvenient pangs of conscience..._

 _I know what I have to do, and I do it. Avon won't be using that gun until the day he brings Scorpio to Gauda Prime; he'll have no reason whatsoever to re-examine it. In a matter of minutes, I'm in and out of his cabin, leaving the weapon exactly where I found it. There's no way anyone will be able to tell just by looking that I've tampered with the delicately rigged internal connections—that I've bypassed the suppression mechanism to render the planned harmless discharge fully operative and lethal once again..._

 

And I know what I have to do now. Now that I've passed on Blake's order to let Avon's people onto the base. I have to give the signal for our people to move in as soon as the action is over. Then I have to get out of the way before the players make their entrance—because if Blake spots me here, he'll cancel the whole show. And God only knows what will happen if Avon spots me.

But—surely that can't be someone coming already, can it? "Hey! You! Wait a minute—" 

         

IV

[Place: Security Commission Headquarters,

Office of the Commissioner

Time: C-plus 5 days]

 

They tell me the look on Avon's face when he realized that Blake had been mortally wounded was priceless. Even after he fired the first two shots, he apparently remained convinced that the man was acting. It was only when Blake clutched at him and whispered his name in disbelieving agony that the terrible truth started to dawn. It was only when Blake lay at his feet covered with blood that he knew for certain. 

They say he was in such a state of shock after that that he stood there doing nothing while my troopers dispatched the rest of his crew. (All except dear Dayna; Arlen had already dealt with her.)

But Klyn was the real unsung heroine of the day. Even though she lost consciousness briefly when Tarrant attacked her, she managed to crawl back to the communications console and signal our people. I must arrange a proper posthumous citation. Avon killed her, you see. She didn't make it out of the tracking gallery in time, and he took her for one of the authentic law and order personnel, rather than one of Blake's lot. He figured she was raising a genuine alarm—and he was right.

It's too bad about Klyn. One always hates to lose a reliable agent. Arlen has made a full recovery, though; Vila only knocked her out. Never would have thought he had it in him, the little thief. Soolin, of course, I didn't have the pleasure of getting to know personally—unlike Tarrant, whose memory is inextricably associated with pleasure. I shall miss my resourceful, decorative pilot...

Almost as much as I shall miss Avon. They tell me that when he finally came to his senses, he looked at my troopers with cold, fearless eyes. Then he straddled Blake's body like a warrior protecting some incalculably precious prize, raised his empty gun in a gesture of defiance and smiled as a dozen Federation firearms cut him down. He fell on top of Blake, and the two of them lay together, locked in a somber funereal embrace...

My troops had their hands full after that, as more of Blake's people came rushing to the scene. It was a bloody battle with heavy casualties on both sides, and those who survived on ours naturally needed to attend to their wounded comrades before worrying about mopping up the enemy's dead. During the hastily arranged medical evacuation, they stumbled upon the luckiest find of all: Orac, sitting in the rebels' stolen flyer at the landing silo. 

Orac shall be my passport to power now. Orac shall pave the way to the recovery of my lost presidency.

As for that band of erstwhile troublemakers who gave me merry chase across the galaxy these past two years, I ordered their remains burned and the ashes scattered in space. I understand it all went smoothly, except for one unnerving little detail. You see, by the time the disposal squad got back to the killing ground, the bodies had already turned cold. They tell me it required an extraordinary effort to pry Blake and Avon apart.                                          

 

 **The End**


End file.
